Shadows Of Trust
by Amber6
Summary: Leo reflects on his true past - PG for language


iTeaser: Leo reflects on his true past/i   
  
  
bucenterShadows Of Trust/b/u/center   
  
centernatz333@aol.com/center   
  
  
  
There is a fact of life stated very rarely. This is only the case because so few people realise it, and those who do are afraid of being laughed at. This fact is so simple that it is impossible, to someone who cannot see the truth, to understand.   
  
It is merely that some people carry around with them the illusion of trust. The illusion that they are the perfect person. The fact is that some people fall for this act. They fall for the good looks and sweeping talk, the cute grin, the loving words. Some people are destined to fall for this act time after time. They fall, they trust, they love. They believe the illusion to be real. They believe the person they are holding in their arms is the one for them and no one else. They are so naive that the late night return stories are believed, the girl who's cheek he kissed was coming on to him and he was just looking at your family heirloom diamond ring. Unfortunately, I am he. I can make anyone trust me as soon as they meet me. I have the good looks, I have the cute grin. My words flowed easily. Until I met her.   
  
I was a small time crook at the time, doing mostly house calls as the plumber or electrician as my boys sustained the real handyman. I'd being going around California for a while, and had been seen a few too many times leaving houses in LA, so I jacked in my post there, packed what few possessions I had in a rucksack older than the town itself, and headed by train down to San Francisco. No ties, no commitments, no mortgage or two car garage. Just me, my backpack, and the wind in my hair. A life I thought I'd live forever.   
  
I soon hitched up with a new crew at 'Frisco; boys less fit than my last patch, but an efficient enough crowd. Before two weeks had passed we had tapped the phonelines of over fifteen big time plumbers and electrician companies, and were raking in the cash and goods as the companies fired employee after employee for burglary and theft. The newspapers were filled with the stories, while we sat back, rubbed the twenty dollar notes between our fingers, and exchanged satisfied grins as our lips kissed the sweet stench of money. The other boys saw me as a bit of a loner from the word go, and set apart my share at the start of each week, letting me pick it up when I chose. We all trusted each other, and no-one else. Or so they thought. I had only ever trusted myself, the horizon, and the open road.   
  
A few weeks passed of this; me living and eating in relative luxury, and for a mere two hours work every couple of days. The rule was, put all the takings and goods you get and divide it up equally. No favourites, no keeping for yourself. Equal shares for equal hours, and if someone didn't do their time, they got less. We all knew the system. We all knew how it worked, and abided by the rules.   
  
One day in early May a call came through for a handyman over East San Fran. I needed a couple of hours work so I leapt into my overalls, jotted down the address and waited until the call came through that the boys had intercepted the real handyman. Then there I was, cigarette in my mouth, rolling smoothly across that famous bridge as the paper fluttered in the wind, the sun beat down on my back, and the open road seemed to stretch out for miles. I had never been happier.   
  
It was just odd-jobs; the easiest kind to do as there are usually so many, the owner forgets half of them and gets you to return the following day, unintentionally giving the chance to not only build up trust but get a bird's eyes view of their possessions, their access routes, their valuable antiques. The more time you had to gain trust, the more chance you had that they'd leave you in the house alone for a time. And with the illusion my shadow carries, trust is the easiest thing in the world.   
  
I dragged on the filter one last time, nicotine gone but unwilling to feel emptiness in my fingers. Smoking was my one bad habit, other than this. But I don't consider this bad. Folks like that street are the richest in 'Frisco; big houses, big cars, big bank balances. And by the looks of my hit, their situation was no different. Huge house, great garden, big Cherokee parked outside. I can only now comprehend my naivety as I strolled easily up the path to their front door. I was so confident that I only needed me. Such a free spirit, I believed. Independent, never getting too close, never touched by any of the strongest emotions. Just moving from town to town, getting a bit of money, losing it, and getting some again. I thought I could live that life forever.   
  
I was wrong. As my knuckles rapped against the stained glass door, my mind was so focused I could have cracked. I knew my objective, my targets, my strategies. I knew my ability was the best in this town. I could steal a fifty dollar note from someone's back pocket as they spoke to me, sitting down. The naivety of my assurance still shocks me now.   
  
My crow bar was hidden in my toolbox, my mobile phone switched on to receive orders at any time. I knew my exact conversation before I even saw the size of that house. I knew what was valuable, and what wasn't. I knew the street and black markets values of every sparkling jewel in this world. I was prepared for everything.   
  
Except her.   
  
  
center***/center   
  
  
My eyes were still half shut as that heavy door swung open, sunlight reflecting glaringly from each of the glass panes. Glass was good; glass was breakable, and could be done so soundlessly with the right kit. I was in a good mood already. Little did I know that the next few seconds would change my life, and even who I was or believed myself to be, forever.   
  
My eyelashes raised, my lids snapped open. And everything I had ever known seemed to depart my mind, to the point where words would not come, and the ability to open or close my mouth in any way deserted me. I could merely stare and feel the pounding of my heart in my chest.   
  
Her short brown hair fluttered freely in the gentle breeze, a gleam of light shimmering off the strands of pure chocolate as the sun glittered overhead. Those eyes met mine, and penetrated my very soul. Such deep brown, so honest and truthful that a single lie would damage them beyond repair. A great figure, too, but I barely noticed the rest of her body. My vision was fixed on that face, that face I had seen a thousand times in my dreams. The face of my soulmate, looking at me expectantly. And not only that of a soulmate. I recognised Piper Halliwell as a Charmed One from the second my eyes hit hers.   
  
My official date of death is 1944. That is the date my spirit left my body and my heart ceased to beat. But I was given another chance long, long ago. I chance to be whitelighter. I am doubting that The Powers That Be still stick by their decision as a good one.   
  
The war for me was far more about stealing soldier's gold fob watches and silk escape maps for the black market profit than it was about tending to head injuries or gunshot wounds. I made a mint before my first week was up in that damned place. Soldiers dying all around me, a virtually empty med kit on my back; every item worth nicking was in the bag before any of his friends had even realised their loss. It wasn't malice or even nastiness; if he was known as one of the poorer blokes, I left the money and gold for his widow and kids, but if the guy was a recognised loner or rich, I'd have every valuable item off his body. I was raking it in, for over three years. Selling most of it, storing some, keeping some. Sending little by little back to my then wife Lilian, to keep her happy enough. She and I were married out of pressure from our families to find a suitable partner, and although I never loved her, and despite my somewhat black ways, I was determined not to let her down. She had never been anything but good to me, and the jewels and money I sent back were my way of saying thank you.   
  
However, the powers above me saw none of this. They saw a man dedicated to his job, to saving innocent lives, to fighting until the bitter end. The day I died, I felt no need to correct them. I nodded my head, held out my hand, and felt the sweet warmth of life upon me once again.   
  
The Charmed Ones were a legend from the word go. A legend of three sisters, i"the most powerful witches who will ever live."/i Even I, as a new and inexperienced lighter, was given the chance to see the line they would descend from, and their prophesied appearances. The moment the second sister's picture was placed before me, I knew I had found my match. That dark brown hair, those soulful eyes. Eyes I knew I didn't deserve to ever see. But knew that one day I would.   
  
And as I stood before her now, the feelings had never faded or even become muted. Like a flame in darkness, I had found a light to guide my way. All those years, stealing, thieving, vaguely guiding my other charges with little effort and subsequently few successes. I was too wrapped up in myself, too involved in the world of black market goods, prices, street values, to barely notice the world around me, let alone pay attention to my whitelighter duties. But I noticed her like a full moon in an all black sky.   
  
Some would say it was a coincidence that myself and Piper met that day, on what would have been my 74th natural birthday. For a while I accepted this reality too, and as like I always had, brushed aside other ideas or possibilities. My voice eventually returned, my hand reached out to shake hers. But as our fingers finally touched, I knew a truth more pure than any other.   
  
Coincidences are just a cowards way of avoiding the truth.   
  
It was fate that we met that day, just as it was fate that The Powers That Be had made me a whitelighter and her a Charmed One. Because as much as we were supposed to be together, before my first words to her were even spoken, rules and secrets were already driving us apart.   
  
center***/center   
  
I was disappointed with my hit that day. Not only had I barely noticed the house or the valuables I knew it was littered with, but my mind had kept wandering to Piper and what I had said to her. I analysed our minuscule conversation a thousand times in my head, as I licked wood stain on to the banisters of the staircase as if that was my real profession, and I did like the colour they had chosen. Looking back over my performance, I felt disgusted. Distracted, sloppy, careless; I could've left my whole kit there and probably wouldn't have noticed. Driving back over the bridge, the wind in my hair and wad of cash in my back pocket, for the first day's work I had ever done in my life, my head started to clear. Nicotine brought clarity, along with the brightness of the setting sun and the gentle coolness impending night brought.   
  
In my mind, I had two clear cut options. One, I went back tomorrow, did another full day's work, took the money and split from 'Frisco all together. Catch a train east, put the boys and my charges behind me, and hope the Piper Halliwell would be out of sight, out of mind. Two, I jacked in my post at my patch, give them the money I had earned today, and somehow became who the Elders had always wanted me to be. Their bribe floated down to my ears as I reached the end of the bridge and the glistening water below it, sparkling orange with the setting sun. Become the lighter they had always wanted of me, jack in the robbery and small time thieving, and I could be the one to train the Charmed Ones. Be close to Piper everyday. I hated how they knew of my feelings for her.   
  
It was a few years ago that they had found out, on an order to come up to see them "as soon as my orbs could carry me". I'd been on the rob again, and they were nearing the end of their tether as far as putting up with me any longer was concerned. My charges had been assigned to other lighters, my healing powers taken away. I think they were probably more infuriated with themselves than me, at their lack of ability to change my ways. In truth, losing all they had taken away had pissed me off to a great extent; but just knowing that they didn't have control over me was more than enough to persuade myself to continue ignoring them. In truth that was all I had ever wanted; for them to leave me be and let me be who I was. It was like having my parents back, suddenly; always nagging at me, trying to tell me what to do. I hadn't listened to them and wasn't going to be bossed around by the Elders.   
  
As I refused to orb myself up, they dragged me from the street right in front of a homeless man's eyes. I watched his expression go from disbelief to fear as I dissolved into little blue circles of light.   
  
They were all there; ten of them, looking gloomy and dull as a wet weekend. Immediately I lit up and sat on the table, crossing my legs and looking to them expectantly, taking rhythmic drags on my cigarette. I could see in their eyes looks of disdain, contempt, ignorance at the knowledge that I didn't want to be one of them, or one of their little busboys. They could look after their own damn charges, and I told them so. Then one of them asked what it was that I needed from them in order to change my ways.   
  
I was surprised; I tried not to show it, but I was. I had never expected them to give me the option of what I required or wanted. In truth I didn't know myself; I had never considered going on the straight and narrow. It was a game to me. A game where I ran circles around them and stole the gold from their back pockets, they would sigh and the whole thing would start over. Never had I considered or thought about the fact that there might be an out. A way to stop the game. But by the same token, I had never wanted to stop playing before.   
  
Piper immediately sprang to my mind, simply because she was the only thing ever on it except from street values and deals I could make with my contacts. Immediately I tried to block the thought, not meeting the ten inquisitive faces that peered towards my own. But it was too little, too late. The elder nearest me gave a little smirk, and informed me I could go. They knew my one weakness. For the first time in my whole life, someone had gotten one over on me. I disappeared from that room wanting to kick myself and scream in the mirror. They had hold of a link of the chain that I had kept from their reach for so long.   
  
And now was the time they had decided to use it. I knew, that one day, the bribe would come, and had doubted they would do anything all too imaginative with it. Had I had that power over them, I would have twisted it in my head for all these years and came up with an ultimatum none of them could refuse. But when their little threat came, it was exactly as I expected it. Dull, mundane, simple and so easily ducked under to begin the game again. I could say no, right now, and there would be nothing more they could do. My powers were already stripped, my charges taken away as though I had wanted to keep them in the first place.   
  
But somehow, the bribe I had expected for over three years succeeded in surprising me. Or not even the bribe; more myself, and my reaction to it. Because as I turned on to the road once more, my hands sliding expertly over the worn wheel and eyes looking out to the burning circle of orange, emanating from the horizon, I found myself considering their offer. Me, a good lighter; Piper Halliwell, who I had dreamt of for so long, at my fingertips each day I lived.   
  
It sounded more appealing with each metre of road the truck chugged over, and each golden star that appeared in the dusky sky.   
  
center***/center   
  
It was a hard decision to make in some respects; yet such an easy one in others. Robbery brought money, riches, travel; but at the same time provided no security, no warm home or friendly faces. A crew was just that; a crew. I was friends with them to the point where they gave me the money I had earned, and we muttered pleasantries when we met in the morning, but it was all shop talk and new strategies. I knew going east would provide no more security, no more friends, no more happiness than the dragging, mundane life I had come to have in 'Frisco. I could convince myself a thousand times over that I would forget Piper, but I knew I wouldn't. All these years that I hadn't seen her I had been able to stand my longing, for I had no idea if she even existed. Yet with the knowledge that a face, a body, a mind was real; it would plague me forever, and I knew it.   
  
I hated telling them. Hated it more than anything because they could read my mind; they already knew my thoughts, but forced me as I knew they would to tell them in words. The chain was slipping from my reach, they were reeling me in as a fish caught on to a hook. I was flailing in mid air, trying to grasp hold of the control I once held in such abundance; but it was slipping, sliding, being taken away from me as quickly and infuriatingly easily as sweets from a child.   
  
They smirked as I knew they would, and I wanted to shout and tell them where to get off. But they held Piper in their grasp, who got to light for her; where I stood in the proceedings and above all how much involvement they allowed me to have. I held my tongue, forced a smile over my face too; ignored my craving for nicotine. Finally they told me of my fate; I would be the Charmed One's whitelighter. I was to return to their house as a handyman, but if I stole anything, I'd be kicked off the job sooner than I could sell the goods. I nodded eagerly, embarrassing myself but beyond caring. I felt like a schoolboy asking out a girl shyly; the ecstasy flooding me indicating that she had said yes. I requested if they needed or wanted anything else, and they exchanged satisfied, smug grins before allowing me to orb down there. As I dissolved into fountains of lights, one called after me, crushing the fantasies running through my mind.   
  
"You can't tell her you're a lighter, Mr. Wyatt."   
  
I wanted to kill him. I wanted to shout at myself for being so naive as to believe there would be no catches. But I kept on orbing.   
  
center***/center   
  
I couldn't believe it. Me, Leo Wyatt, thief extraordinaire, looking for a cat. And I didn't mind. I looked up the chimney, posted flyers on streetlamps; knocked at doors to ask if they'd seen the animal. And all this time, just seeing Piper's reactions, little gestures, sayings... I was in a whole new heaven, which involved no market values or strategic planning, or hitching rides up the highway. It was the simple things that made it all so perfect. Something that did bring a smile to my face was the gobsmacked expressions I knew the Elders would be wearing now. But I was happy, here. Happy speaking to Piper, even just as the handyman; knowing that one day I would be able to tell her who I was. I just longed for that day to be today.   
  
But the day came. Phoebe caught me levitating to replace a lightbulb, and I came crashing from the sky right down to the ground, both literally and mentally. I had to tell her who I was; right from that I was a lighter to what powers I had, and that I knew they were the Charmed Ones. It had been so infuriating for so long, pretending to be oblivious to their witch huddles, being unable to help when I knew exactly how to fix a problem. It felt good to finally tell one of them who I was, even through I knew Piper should have been the first to know, now she was in all essence my girlfriend. I had been so happy, for so long. Everyday came with the pleasure of waking up next to her, and staring deep into that face I had dreamt of for so long, willing her to wake up just as she did. I was in literal heaven, happier than I had ever been with Lilian or during my thieving days. The Elders' call crushed my every snatch at happiness or hope.   
  
I had broken the rules; I was to retract myself from the Halliwells as soon as possible. I was to tell Phoebe to not tell her sisters. I did it all, with an aching, ripping sadness, knowing that this was the only way I would ever be allowed to return. Left the only true contentment I had ever known, the sweet warmth of Piper's arms, the glitter of brown in her eyes. Her every touch, I tore myself from. I hated Them more than I ever thought possible.   
  
For months I was forced to deal with my other charges. My anger cooled, to an extent; I spent the time becoming the ideal lighter they had always wanted in the hopes of being allowed back to the Charmed Ones, to Piper, to whatever tatters our relationship now lay in. To sew the pieces back together, to heal the hurt I know I put her through.   
  
Eventually, I grew used to the constant longing, similar to what I had experienced for years, only more acute. I got involved with a charge named Daisy; she needed shielding from a darklighter named Alec and I complied. She was the first of my charges other than the Halliwells that I cared about, really; not in the same way that I cared for, loved and pined for Piper, but with a sense of responsibility that I had rarely experienced before. It was a similar feeling that I had once held for my wife; sending her back gifts from the war, because I knew that she was at home in America, thinking of me. With Daisy, I felt the need to help her. In the process I nearly got myself killed. I also got to see Piper again.   
  
I was shot by a darklighter arrow; lethal to all whitelighters and I was pretty pissed off, to say the least. It hurt like fuck, and I knew it was incurable. One thought came to mind; I had to tell Piper my true feelings. Quickly, before the Elders could tell me otherwise, I orbed to the manor. Unfortunately it was Piper who found me, shocked, confused, scared. They all made me comfortable, tended to the incurable wound; Piper was upset and rightly so. I desperately wanted to speak to her, to tell her how I felt. But she was downstairs, searching through the book, getting more gauze...and each time her eyes met mine they emanated more hurt than I could ever bear to think I had caused her.   
  
But I knew she loved me. She swapped powers with me to attempt to heal me; but she couldn't find the trigger. She wouldn't let me go, couldn't let me go; but by the same token she couldn't tell me she loved me. She never replied as I said it to her, merely sobbed and rested her head against my stomach. I wanted to tell her, say it, everything'll be okay if you just say it. Because I knew she would mean it. But I knew she couldn't.   
  
Finally, she did. Sobbing, angry at me for leaving her alone as so many people had before me, she said it. I was hurting her, more than ever, and I hated myself for it. Hated the Elders for not allowing me to tell her before. Hated them for ever letting this happen. But she said it, and she brought me back. Like she said, she couldn't tell me before because she was afraid it would hurt more if she lost me.   
  
And once again I was forced to leave. Knowing that one day I would return. Knowing that we had a love no-one could ever break. We had even cheated an uncheatable death. We had defied destiny itself.   
  
center***/center   
  
Eventually I returned, but things were different. She'd had some thinking time; as had I, in truth. I knew the Elders were unhappy with us being together, and would continue to take me away or force me to leave as often as they saw fit. For a while we broke up; Piper even started dating the next door neighbour, Dan. He wasn't a bad guy, really; I even met him on a couple of occasions, and couldn't fault him however much I wanted to. But it didn't matter who he was or what he was like. What mattered was he got the warmth of Piper's arms, her gentle kiss, her soft caress. Every time I saw them together, it sent a pang of pure pain ripping through my heart, and eventually I had to leave, if only to preserve my own sanity.   
  
We never said goodbye. I couldn't allow it to be so final as goodbye. Fate stated that witches and whitelighters weren't supposed to be together. I also knew my past lives, and knew that Piper and I were meant for each other. So goodbye was never part of who we were. I let her and Dan be for as long as I could.   
  
But I wasn't going to let Piper die. That would be letting the only reason I had ever wanted to live die, and I could never let that happen. Saving her and once again cheating death got me my wings clipped. But eventually, we were back together, as we always should have been. Leo and Piper, Piper and Leo. And I look at her and despite the Elder's smug grins I know I made the right decision. Because I love her more than life itself.   
  
center***/center   
  
I'm standing before her now, and we've just said our wedding vows. For a while it didn't look as though we would get to at all. They caught us trying to get married and took me away again; but Piper came fighting back and finally the Elders gave up on trying to keep us apart. They came to slacken the rules of witches and lighters being together, and I've never been more grateful. She's like oxygen to me; I don't know if I could have coped, knowing that goodbye was forever. Knowing us, we would have still found a way, and we did. She proved just how strong she is, how selfless she is, how utterly devoted to us and to helping the people who need her. She saved us that time.   
  
The clock chimes twelve, and the witching hour is upon us. Today nearly didn't happen for so many reasons. We overcame them all, every hurdle along the way, every huge jump we took together, holding hands and leaping at the same time. We've beaten so many obstacles to get to where we are, and I can't help but grin. Happiness fills my every pore, and my each and every inch of me is smiling.   
  
Sure, I still know the street values of every piece of furniture in this room. If I wanted to, I could burgle every house in San Francisco and probably not get caught. But I'd never trade what I have now for anything. Not all the riches and jewels in the whole world.   
  
My lips meet hers, and we celebrate the bond, now stronger than ever between us. Sparkles of light rain down from the heavens, around us our family claps.   
  
And she's the most precious thing in this room, because in my eyes, she's priceless.   
  
Fin.


End file.
